


Hateful Kisses and Stormy Eyes

by RamaThorn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Kissing, Love/Hate, M/M, Pining, Romance, Unresolved Sexual Tension, so much pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 10:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20722445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RamaThorn/pseuds/RamaThorn
Summary: "I hate you, Potter, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate–"The next thing Harry felt was Draco kissing him. Angrily and no less dangerous than his eyes.





	Hateful Kisses and Stormy Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Want to thank DieBessere for some corrections, I really appreciate your help!<3

The deep, dreamless sleep always tasted like death to him.  
It was a feeling strangely welcoming, in a way that was never fully understood. Nonetheless, it kept coming. 

Harry closed his eyes, he couldn't wait to start floating. 

Today Ginny told him she loved him and the answer stuck in Harry's throat. When he swallowed the numbness, these words went down to his stomach, causing the heaviness that wouldn’t go away. Ginny didn't say anything but she didn't need to. Harry had enough of voices in his head already. 

They fell silent only when he died. It happened almost every night, except ones during that he didn't sleep. Dark silence enveloped him thoroughly and carefully, pushing on the ears and eyes, penetrating his mind through them. He welcomed it because then heavy 'I love you too' disappeared like sand through fingers slowly until nothing was left and he didn't have to say it anymore. There wasn't _him_ exactly.

And this part was the best. Or maybe it was not, Harry could never say for sure, couldn't he? There was nothing to describe, to feel or comprehend. And this was what Harry liked. For some time there wasn't anything left, not even the self-consciousness. And that was beautiful. 

Children generally don't like sleep, but Harry welcomed it for as long as he could remember. Except maybe for the times when he dreamed things that didn't belong to his mind. Sleep was an opportunity to escape. The cupboard under the stairs had closed around him securely, and then disappeared in the ever coming dreams, hallucinations and then finally nothingness. There was no one to take his food away, to push him or scream at him in rage for the broken plate. Even the dreams weren't so generous. 

And then he died. It wasn't empty all the way, but for a moment, a glimpse before he met Dumbledore and before he realized where he was, he caught the strange stillness and peacefulness of the white entity. He wondered what that place would become if he stayed. Would it change? Disappear? Blossom into the imitation of the living world? He thought he will discover it eventually. 

After some floating the dreams came. The flickers of images and sensations swallowed him fully. There was Ginny with three heads, every one of them was screaming at him the words of love and he was running away. Ron and Hermione were standing on the cliff, looking at him in disappointment. Hogwarts in the summer afternoon and the familiar lake, but full of blood. Then Harry lost himself and observed some story from above about a group of teenagers fighting an evil queen. Near the end of the story, two boys were sitting together some distance away from their friends in the red glowing of the sunset. Then Harry found himself as one of the two. He looked in the eyes of his friend.

"I can't. We can't," he said miserably. The red and orange light was so bright and warm.

"You're mine /;l#!" Draco replied in desperation, his eyes shining gold. 

"Really? Why didn't you tell me?" Harry's heart swam. 

Draco's expression changed, turned into a familiar scowl of distaste. 

"Who do you think I am, Potter?" He moved closer, "Some kind of a fan of yours? Some ponce? Faggot?" 

He was nearly growling now, closer and closer, taking Harry's face into his hands, grey eyes growing darker, becoming the shade of the stormy cloud, one that seems so heavy with rain it feels almost dangerous. The danger was so obvious, so sharp and fresh, Harry felt alive with the energy, he hadn't felt that way for a long time. 

"I hate you, Potter, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate–"

The next thing Harry felt was Draco kissing him. Angrily and no less dangerous than his eyes. The intoxicating warmth and sweetness were right next to painful biting and collision of teeth. And yet it was the best kiss Harry ever had. 

Best, sweet, dangerous, forbidden and desirable. So, so needed, it hurt. It would never be his. Never could and never will. The golden light of the sunset cut his closing eyes, looking disappointed in him the way his best friends were. He closed his eyes anyway because Malfoy was kissing him still.

When it stopped Harry didn't notice because there was no Harry anymore. He fell into the shy version of death, enveloped in it tenderly. Love was the reason he lived but now all he wanted was hatred. Because nothingness felt better than the kiss.

***

Harry walked into the Great Hall to the hum of conversations and clicking of dishes with food, the warmth of it and a delicious smell. He didn't notice any of it. 

He started making his way to his place at the Gryffindor table with a wave of students like him, his mind deliciously blank. This morning was just the right amount of empty, exactly the way he liked it, full of automatic familiar motions and some greeting through the throat that was refusing to speak more than three words at a time. Harry reckoned it was Sunday. A small glimpse of disappointment shot through his mind at the thought that tomorrow was Monday already. It was familiar and fleeing. He really-- 

Something bumped into his right shoulder, cutting off the train of thought, which was unpleasant. Harry blinked and turned.

The grey eyes were sizing him with annoyance. Malfoy grimaced and wrinkled his nose in such a mask of displeasure that was screaming of hatred. Harry grimaced in return but didn't say anything. His throat was stubbornly not working. Malfoy rolled his eyes and turned away, walking fast towards his table. 

They never talked these days. Not even to make the usual poisonous remarks. Harry's heart strangely fell out of rhythm on the thought. He made the remaining way to his usual place. Hermione was already there, buried in some massive book. She greeted him distractedly and Harry nodded. He swallowed the remaining lump in the throat and started to help himself with some toast.

Tingling on the back of his neck told him he was being watched. He turned from his buttering process and looked too. Malfoy. Harry fought down the stupid smile on the familiarity of it. Malfoy hadn't done that in a long time.  
He turned away the moment their gazes met. 

Harry's nape was tingling occasionally for the remaining of the breakfast.

Ginny was talking about the next Quidditch game against Ravenclaws or something, Harry wasn't listening. His attention wasn't needed anyway, because Ron was engaged in the chat so much that it could compensate Harry's and Hermione's absence. It was nearly time to go.

"Potter." Came suddenly behind him, making him jump and Ginny stop mid-sentence.

Harry turned to Malfoy standing some feet away and already looking irritated. Harry couldn't quite believe he called him. The silence was stretching. Draco lifted one eyebrow in exasperation. 

"Uh, er... yeah?" Harry felt like an idiot. Ginny was eyeing him in confusion. He couldn't take his eyes off of Malfoy to look at Ron or Hermione. 

"A word?" Malfoy's tone was cold and slow as though he talked to an infant. But it sent a shiver down Harry's spine nonetheless. He wasn't used to hearing it. His mind unhelpfully recalled the way Malfoy had said 'I hate you' in his dream earlier. 

Harry nodded uncertainly and tore his eyes from Malfoy to his friends, standing from the table. 

"See you all later," he didn't want to wait for their expressions of confusion, so he just turned away towards Malfoy again. The moment Harry was on his feet, the blonde strode to the exit from the Hall, not waiting for him to follow. Harry's heart picked up the speed the same way as his feet did to keep up.

When they were out of the warm Hall, Draco hadn't stopped, turning towards the dungeons, not looking at Harry... After a minute of the fast pace, Harry started to feel confused. 

"Malfoy?" The name felt strange on his lips. 

Malfoy didn't even flinch to acknowledge him, he slightly picked up speed instead. No one was here at this time, and Harry thought absently that if Malfoy intended to hex him here it would be pretty perfect circumstances. For some reason, the thought amused him.

"Malfoy!" The strange thing was, Harry couldn't believe he hadn't been saying this name all the time, it felt so familiar and easy to say. Even if earlier it was with nothing but dislike to it.

Malfoy stopped so abruptly Harry nearly bumped into him. He finally turned to Harry with the most strangest expression on his face that Harry had never seen before. It was strangely determined and serious but uncertain and a bit flushed. Harry stared back in wonder. 

"Ugh, I can't believe it," Malfoy muttered irritably, "You just can't be a normal person, can you? Can't stop thinking that you’re better than everyone. With this idiotic empty stare on your face, not thinking anyone deserves your attention, huh? I know it doesn't work like that, you’re supposed to forget—"

Harry stared at him in bewilderment and ever-growing confusion. What on earth was he talking about? 

"Fuck, everything is bollocks, everything going straight to hell, and I can't even bring myself to—" Malfoy was getting angrier and seemingly more confused with every second. As if he had the right to get fucking confused by the situation he created. "And the worst thing is you! You with your fucking— That I want to— To—!" he started to raise his voice.

"Malfoy! What the fuck are you on about?!" Harry took a step further without realizing until the moment those grey eyes shot to his with visible distress written all over them. He didn't understand anything. 

Malfoy was panting, running his gaze all over Harry's face, which made him feel very conscious about himself for some reason. He licked his lips nervously and Malfoy's eyes were there the same instant. A shiver ran through Harry. 

"I hate you," Malfoy said very quietly and somehow desperately, "I really do."

Harry frowned.

"I know," he answered uncertainly. 

Malfoy grimaced almost... hurt? Harry was at a loss completely. 

"Yeah, you know," he nearly whispered. 

Then his expression changed to a brokenly determined one. "How is this that the one single thing you know is a lie anyway? It's ironic, don't you think? And so pathetic, really."

Harry gaped at him.

"Wha—?"

Then Malfoy was kissing him. Harry didn't have a second to comprehend when it started and the next thing he knew he was slammed into the wall with a strong body. He opened his mouth to gasp and immediately hot tongue was sliding past his lips. Eyes fluttered shut automatically, there was nothing left except for the hot sensation of a deep hard kiss, Malfoy's tongue was persistent and their teeth collided painfully. Malfoy tasted of pudding that was for dessert this morning and Harry felt like he started to float away. He didn't notice the moment he started to respond, but an answering deep moan against his mouth made him shiver. Fuck. He wanted to hear and feel more.

Hot hands went for his hair and Harry found a moment to realize that he’d always imagined them to be cold but they weren’t. Teeth closed on his bottom lip and Harry made a little sound he didn't know he was capable of making. 

"Fuck..." Malfoy whispered and went for another deep kiss. 

Harry was getting hot all over, almost feverishly so. Under his shut eyes there were images of something unclear. Draco (...Draco?) tugged at the hair on Harry's nape and this was so familiar... What?

Harry opened his eyes and let go of Malfoy's robes he was clutching tightly in his fists (when did he even..?) and pushed him away hard. Draco opened his eyes, disoriented and flushed so deliciously with those red swollen lips, fuck, that was Harry's doing, the thought made his chest swell. Malfoy blinked and Harry returned to reality.

"What the fuck did you do, Malfoy?" Harry whispered, Draco flinched and something like panic flicked on his face for a moment, disappearing instantly under the familiar frown, "I mean, when you—" For some reason, Harry wanted to explain, "When you tugged my hair, that felt... Familiar."

Draco blinked and realisation flicked over his face, followed by more panic. He made a step backwards. 

"What did you do?" Harry scowled, he felt like there was something and he probably wouldn't like it.

"I— Oh, fuck," he started trembling a little. 

Harry made a step from the wall, getting angry now. There was some bitter disappointment somewhere inside him where he didn't want to look too closely right now.

"What? Tell me, come on, or–" Harry had no idea what he would do but Malfoy didn't need to know that.

Malfoy bit his lip (oh Harry really shouldn't look there) and ran a hand through his hair. Then that strange determination fell all over his features again. 

"Okay, I'll tell you." Harry crossed his arms on the chest, partly to hide his surprise, "I assure you it's not something dangerous." 

Harry bit his tongue just so he wouldn't say that Malfoy was so, so dangerous to him. Malfoy was everything but safe. Of course, Harry knew better than to say so. 

"Of course I'd believe you because you have never done anything of such, huh," Harry rolled his eyes. Malfoy tsked in response.

"Yeah sure," he mirrored Harry's posture, crossing his arms. "I really hate you."

_If I say 'I know' will you kiss me again?_

Harry shook his head. There was something more important right now to ask.

"So. What the hell is going on?" Harry pressed.

"I said, I'll tell you, are you deaf or something?" Harry felt a rising wave of irritation. He stepped closer. But suddenly Malfoy's hands were cupping his face. "First, can I— One more time, and then I'll tell you?" Malfoy's heavy gaze fell on Harry's lips, almost making them tingle. "Anything you wanna know..."

Harry swallowed. He really shouldn't, it would be so stupid to lose himself again, and he must hear what's happening, he couldn't give up so easily, to let Malfoy kiss him again— 

Harry went for the kiss fist instead, swearing in his head. He was already addicted, it seemed. The intoxicating heat and sweetness were everything he wanted. And the fact that it was Malfoy... Harry moaned as the tongue slipped into his mouth hungrily. Harry's back hit the wall again, and this time there was a knee shown between his legs. It was almost too much. His hands found silky hair on their own accord. Harry gasped as the thigh pushed into his crotch, all his thoughts begun to flee. The kiss was so consuming, so hungry and desperate, it was so hard not to fall into it completely until nothing was left... 

Suddenly, Draco pulled back a little, Harry still felt his rapid breath on his sensitive lips. Malfoy laughed so brokenly, making Harry returned to reality abruptly.

"I'm really... The truth is—" He was seemingly fighting for the words, so quiet, but Harry felt them on his lips, somehow he didn't want to open his eyes just yet. "Oh, Harry."

Harry's heart skipped a bit. His name sounded so unusual from Draco and yet so right. It was not as sharp as 'Potter', softer and almost gentle. His chest hurt, he squirmed his eyes tightly. 

"You hate me," he murmured almost inaudible, clutching Draco's hair.

"Well, yeah, but I like you more," Draco said with force, "If you couldn't already tell, you idiot."

He kissed Harry again, but this time it was just a peck on the lips as if just to support his words. It felt more intimate than the thigh pressing between his legs. 

"I like you too," Harry found himself whispering. Draco's hand clenched into a fist in Harry's hair on the nape of his neck.

"You really, really shouldn't." He bit out so desperately, Harry opened his eyes to look at him. "And I'm so sorry."

When Harry saw the wand pointed at him, he didn't even have a moment to feel surprised. 

"_Obliviate._"

The last thing Harry noticed was the tears swelling in those stormy eyes. 

***

The deep, dreamless sleep always tasted like death to him.  
It was a feeling strangely welcoming, in a way that was never fully understood. Nonetheless, it kept coming. 

Harry closed his eyes, he couldn't wait to start floating. 

That night he dreamed about "I hate you" kisses again. Only this time it was accompanied by tears in stormy eyes that weren't shed.


End file.
